Between Life Or Death
by sarahh.x
Summary: Edward is Bella's guardian angel. The two become aggravated over the fact that they can't be together. Until Bella draws a conclusion- to join him, but Edward won't let her. What happens now? AH. Better than it sounds I promise. Rated M for language
1. Love Is Patient

**Hey everyone, it's SARAH from the joint account _.browneyedbeautyy-_ and I'm reposting this story onto this account and I'm sure you all know why.  
Anyways, I have changed a few things but it's not exactly necessary to read the first couple of chapters again... but it would be a little helpful.  
I am continuing this story by myself from now on because Kate is currently on hiatus and I have big plans for this story and this story is something  
I really want to continue writing so I hope I can do this and I need your support :)**

**About the story:  
**Unless you don't like angsty stories (though I promise it won't be too angst), or stories where drinking and cussing is involved I advise you don't read on because I don't appreciate  
heavy critisism so I'm warning you now. This story will involve cussing and you will figure out who has the foul mouth later on. To read this story you need an open mind because  
the characters will be somewhat OOC and again, I don't appreciate major flammage. I'm really into the whole bad ass character type thing so don't be surprised when I use  
words like fuck and dipshit more than three times in one sentence. I find it humorous and if you don't then this isn't the story for you. I don't mean to sound like a bxtchy school  
girl and all but I just wanted to clear this out because last time I started a story with Edward being all bad ass, the reviews weren't pleasant and I don't want to have to delete  
this story like I did to the other one. And I'm probably boring the shit out of you but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do right?

And I think you all should know that I like being sarcastic and I'm an outgoing person so most of these author note trash is going to involve colourful language because that's  
how I am :) So don't think I'm being mean or any shenanigans like that. And if you've read up until this part, good for you. We'll be great friends :D

So anyways here's the **important **tingz about this story. It's ALL HUMAN. Alice is still perky, Emmett's still freakishly large, Jasper...he's going to be different ;), Edward will be less  
depressive and more...out there, Bella will still be the stubborn chick that she is with a sense of humour, Charlie will still have his shotgun around in case Edward pisses him off  
and Rosalie is still the bxtchy school girl and uhh I don't know if Jake's going to be here. **I think I'm just writing nonsense and boring the crap out of you.**

**SUMMARY: **_How about you just read the story to find out what the hell it's about ? :) Kidding._  
**Real summary:** (Long story short) Bella develops a friendship with her lanky musician neighbour after three years of living next to him and somewhere in between their laughter,  
hanging out at the venues Edward and Emmett perform at, late night outs, early morning phone calls and spending way too much time with Edward, Bella being the clumsy  
girl she is falls in love with Edward Cullen and she plans on confessing it during their night out at prom. And when she's about to have a confab with Edward, he's missing.  
Edward and Bella deal with the hardest obstacle in life-- struggling to be together but nothing can work out. How will they deal with the fact that Edward's her guardian angel  
and there's nothing they can do unless Bella joins him? What happens next?  
**I swear it sounds ten times better than my screwed up summary. Please give it a chance? :)**

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_I've always heard of it- this particular theme, an emotion everyone feels. I've seen it before on television shows, movies and even photographs displayed on the internet or magazines. This theme always came up in the novels I read. Whether it was for a family member or a friend. This emotion, I see, is flaunted by hugs, kisses and even the littlest smiles. Some describe the feeling by the slightest beam of the eyes. You know, when he or she passes by or even the call of their name, you get all warm and fuzzy and you look up at this person, your heart racing, with the joyous look you could put on. Because you love them. That's what this feeling was, love._

_I was postive I was in love with this boy and I mentally slapped myself on the cheek everyday making it all bright red again- not that I needed help with that- for not realizing it earlier. For not bothering to look at him. Not even once. In the hallways, I knew he always passed by me but, I never looked up. Or when he would take his seat next to me in biology class, I never quite spoke to him and the craziest part was not even taking a peak through my window while he stood there in his room like most girls did. I'd just slide my curtains closed, hiding myself from the boy next door. The one who I apprently loved, but I just didn't know it at the time._

_Until that day. The very first day I noticed how peircing his emerald eyes were through those long lashes. How pale his skin was. Like the paper I scribble my pen around. How his smile was slightly curled to one side, how odd it was, but beautiful in that way._

_I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into either. It was like love at first sight. I didn't believe it then. Until that day._

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**CHAPTER ONE: Love Is Patient  
BPOV**

It's another cloudy, rainy day in Forks, Washington I notice while I climb out of bed, but I'm not surprised. I know what to expect. Sun was hardly ever welcome in this small town. It's as if the rain clouds built some sort of wall like they were enemies of some sorts. Nothing is ever bright here. Not even the glow of the trees I pass by on my way to school or even surrounding my neighbourhood. The leaves are a dull green colour. The grass is hardly living and the flowers never bloom. You would think nature here is scared out of their mind or think what I did the first day I'd come here. A ghost town.

Unlike Forks, Phoenix is full of sunshine and vibrant colours. Flowers stand straight and tall in every garden you pass by. The trees are a nice light green colour and the sky is always a clear blue. It hardly ever rains in Phoenix. Funny how I ended up living in an area so opposite of where I spent most of my life growing up.

I almost gave in moving here with Charlie when I'd remembered the weather. But then again, I never care for the weather. Hot or cold, sunny or not, why did it matter? It's just weather. And rain couldn't kill me. However, if it were to rain a flood, that was a different story. The sun couldn't do harm to me either. I was always pale. Since the very first day I was born.

My alarm clock rang still making me jump about an inch up from my bed. Now-a-days I'd wake up earlier than the alarm set and still be surprised when it rings so loud and clear.

I get out of bed five minutes later leaving the purple comforters Charlie bought me since the day I moved here- three years ago- messy and undone. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth not even bothering with my hair. I never hassle with my hair. There's never anything good about it. All it did was stay pin straight and never even curl when it rained as Jessica's hair did.

"Oh my Gucci!" she'd scream out holding her hands up letting the rain hit her palm. "My hair!" she'd shriek while making an attempt to run to her emerald green "punch buggy", slipping on her way there. Sometimes she ends up falling flat on her bum resulting in soaked clothing. Angela and I just stand there and laugh like the good friends we are but we can't help it when the third Amiga is a Malibu Barbie living in a town that completely takes away the habit of dressing up like the sun.

Wardrobe is never a problem for me either. All I ever wear are whatever pair of jeans I can find- today is dark wash- and a t-shirt appropriate for school. Appropriate as in no camp names written on it or blobs of stains all over. I never let Renee buy me the kinds of shirts she wants me to start wearing.

"It'll show off your Mary-Kate and Ashley's!" she exclaimed when she'd picked up a see-through red low neck top at a store she and I knew we couldn't afford. I simply shook my head at her and told her I'd wait for her outside. Clearly, I'm much of a shopper. For clothing anyway.

I manage to find a decent blue long-sleeve knit sweater suitable for today's weather. It's a bit chilly than the other days which I love because that meant I could wear a sweater. I love sweaters.

Charlie's already gone by the time I'm finished getting ready. I pop some pop tarts in the toaster and pick up my old "Wuthering Heights" copy off the kitchen table where I mostly did my reading. I'm a sucker for the classics. What do you know, I hate shopping and I'm a bookworm. That's totally attractive.

There are three earsplitting honks coming from the window outside my living room. I walk over to it forgetting what the honks were for. As soon as I slide a part of the curtain off to the side to get a peak, the bronze haired boy that lives next door is walking out of the house and climbing through the window of the passenger side of a mountainous jeep belonging to a well-built boy. I don't know his name but I know he's a senior, dating the captain of the volleyball team. She's my age and again, I don't know her name.

Today there is another addition to their "group". A small girl who looks young yet old at the same time runs out of the same house and climbs in the backseat beside the blond girl- the same one who's dating the well-built boy. She looks back at me before they drive off and the second our eyes meet- dark brown and hazel it looks like-I slide the curtain back completely hiding myself from the tiny girl.

Weird.

Ten minutes later, just on time, there's a loud honk from outside my house again. This time it wasn't a short "beep, beep, beep" like the previous one sounded like. This honk is like a tune. I don't know how to describe it, but it's very Jessica like. She likes to have her things custom designed.

I grab my book bag and swing it over my right shoulder quickly slipping on my tennis shoes before grabbing a jacket off the hanger. I lock the door and take careful movements down the four steps I'm going down and I happen to slip off the last one and fall flat on my bum. Luckily, my hands caught my fall completely saving me from another bumache.

When I open the back door of Jessica's punch buggy, they're already in giggles.

"How's the ground like today?" Angela asks me looking at me through the front mirror. I shoot her a look. She always asks the same question every morning. I don't know why I can't drive myself to school. I have a truck.

Angela ignores the glare coming from me and Jessica drives ahead the second I buckle my seatbelt. She's wild, but she knows about safety. Angela clears her throat, our discussion clearly not over. It's never over until one of us does justice. Talk about supreme court.

"Soft." I roll my eyes in the back looking out the window and wishing I hadn't inherited the clumsy side of my mother. I always wish I'm as strong as Charlie, brave even. Renee and I share emotional traits and I hate that. I always cry at the sad part in books, even movies.

"What are you so smiley about?" Angela snorts to Jess. Jess comes to a stop at the only stoplight in Forks and blows a puff of air- all dramatically. Angela rolls her eyes, noticing. Angela and I always scoff at Jess for being so Malibu-like.

"What? Is being happy against the law?" she says in her annoyed tone. She fidgets through her seat as if she's looking for something, but Angela and I know it's her way of making things a little less awkward for herself. She finally settles with asking me for her bag which she always keeps on the floor behind her seat and takes out her "school lipstick" which is the same colour- but different shade, she'd like to say- as her "home lipstick" and "hot weather lipstick" and "party lipstick". She wants to seem "funky" and "flirty" for all occasions. Like the hot weather or her own home cares if her lips are a lighter shade than the day before.

"I'm just asking." Angela scoffs, putting down her mirror to check her nose for dry skin. Angela has always been self-conscious about her skin being dry all the time that one day she'd gone on the internet and flipped through magazines to read other girls' recommendations for America's number one brand of moisturizer. I watch as Angela digs through her make-up case (although it doesn't exactly consist of make-up) and applies liquid foundation and then another layer of moisturizer. She rubs her fingers gently across her nose while examining it in the 5x mirror Jessica bought her that basically says, "Stop using my car mirrors". You could say that Jessica Stanley, a good friend of mine since freshman year, is easily annoyed by the slightest of things and well, it was true.

"I was just thinking about prom." Jess shrugs her shoulder as if it were no big deal using that daydream voice of hers. I could easily point out that she's picturing herself coming out of a stretch limo hand-in-hand with Mike Newton. "I mean, wouldn't it be cool if Mike asks me to prom? That would totally make my life." She smiles all sweetly then presses her foot against the gas pedal when the stoplight changes from red to green. How I'd known what she's thinking didn't mean I'm a psychic. Jess is just easy to figure out and she's only been talking about junior prom since the day I met her.

"If he doesn't ask you out soon I'm going to go ballistic and maybe knock some sense into that idiot's head." I laugh along with Angela. When I'd first met Angela she was the shy, quiet type, but over the years I'd really gotten to know her, she wasn't all innocent after all. She's like a lily being planted in the nasty Forks weather and that one hot day, the day she'd been waiting for, she'd bloomed.

"Love is patient." Jess states with her "matter-of-fact" voice. She pulls onto the student parking lot of Forks High. Home of the Spartans- aren't we scary? With our cloth underwear and cheap swords? She sounds as if she's not only reminding Angela but also, herself. I only roll my eyes at her new phrase because it sounds as though she's been reading too many post break-up hand books. Even if she's not in that state but, she feels like it she claims.

"But love never takes that long to come around. You've been crushing on Mike since fifth grade Jess. If love was really on your side, he would have had some sense to ask you out at our big seventh grade dance!" Angela's becoming angry by the second. She's always so annoyed about Jess' adoration for Mike all these years. Especially the fact that she hadn't done anything about it. She was tired of hearing stories like "So today, Mike asked me for a pencil and he, like, totally had one sticking out his binder!" or "Mike actually said hi to me today when I passed by him in the hallway. I think something's about to happen. I can feel it."

"Why don't you just go up to him and ask him out already!"

"Helloooo," Jess waves her hand around in that sing-song voice of hers as we get out of the car. "Mike is supposed to be the one asking me out. Not the other way around. It's how it's supposed to go."

"Not all the time. Just do it."

"Then I'd look desperate!" Jess pouts, folding her hands across her chest.

"What else is new?" Angela half screams at her. "You are desperate! That should be your new nickname! Am I right Bella?"

I turn bright red when the two of them swing their heads around to look at me. Jess with pleading eyes and Angela with a look that says "just agree and we can get out of here". I assumed they'd forgotten I was even standing here.

"I should go to class now. I don't want to be-"

"Oh quit it Ms. I-want-to-win-the-perfect-attendance-award." Jess rolls her eyes at me meanwhile Angela gives a light slap on her shoulder indicating she needs to shut up and walk away.

"Excuse me?" I scoff. "I don't want to win that award. Is there even an award like that? And at least I am not in love with a boy that hardly notices me." I didn't mean to sound harsh but, apparently I did. It's written all over Jess' face.

"For your information, Mike and I do talk and he does notice me." She gives Angela and I one last look before turning around on her heel and walks away with her heels clinking against the wet ground.

Angela just looks at me. "I didn't mean to." I say all of a sudden feeling guilty.

"I know. She'll get over it. It's Jess." She sends me a soft smile. And it does make it a little better knowing Angela is right. She'll get over it.

* * *

"Mr. Cullen," Mr. Molina says in that tone he always uses when he's not pleased with something and I don't have to shoot my head up from where I'm doodling on my notebook while Mr. Molina rants on about the male and female reproductive system to know that Edward's late again. "One more late and you will be serving a week of detention."

The next thing I feel is the presence of the bronze haired boy I've been sitting with for the past few months or so. He pulls out the chair carelessly letting it squeak as he pushes in. I've gotten used to his attitude. Next came the thud of his binder and textbook along with the slam of his elbow being rested on top of the desk and then the clearing of his throat before giving Mr. Molina a reply.

"What's your excuse this time Mr. Cullen?"

"I'd like to tell you Mr. Molina but you see, the thing is, the government has sworn me to secrecy." Came from the soft, velvety voice next to me. "But I understand completely." But the thing is, he doesn't understand because that's what he said last week when he came in twenty minutes before the end of the period claiming he had something important to take care of after Mr. Molina threatened him with lunch detentions everyday rather than after school.

"I wish you do Mr. Cullen." He raises his eyebrow at him through his glasses completely ignoring Edward's brilliant excuse. Half the class was giggling behind us.

"Pop quiz everyone!" his voice goes from aggravated to sarcastic cheerful as everyone groans and moves their binders to the side. He makes his way down the rows passing two sheets to each lab desk.

"What's wrong Cullen?" Mr. Molina askes, his eyebrow raised- I think it's a habit of his- stopping in front of Edward. Edward sits back, his eyes down on the paper.

"Can't do it." He says, exasperated. I bit the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing because Mr. Molina looks as though he wants to explode. He and Edward always had this unexplained problem with each other I can't help but wonder if Mr. Molina ever goes home crying and complaining to his wife.

"And why is that?" Clearly Mr. Molina was over the top annoyed but he has to deal with Edward because he's his student after all and the teachers are all about helping. I bet he regrets going down the teacher's path.

"I don't have a pencil." I bend my head a little closer to the paper so that my hair is like a wall between us hiding my face. I roll my eyes instead of laughing while I write my name at the top and the date of today. Friday April 24, exactly three weeks till prom. I'm sure Jess has it marked on her calendar.

Mr. Molina blows a puff of air, clearly annoyed yet again. "I'm sure Ms. Swan can lend you one. Be mature about it Edward." And with that, he walks back up to his desk. "You may begin." He tells the class.

"How can I without a pencil?" Edward raises his hands all dramatically and Mr. Molina just ignores him. Edward mutters a few words under his breath that I can't point out but I'm sure it's something unpleasant.

Like most people they'd hand Edward a pencil without him asking because they listen to the conversation and by handing him a pencil, it would admit to that. But I'm not like that. I'm easily embarrassed.

Like this one time Edward had the same incident except he had no paper to write down the note on the overhead and like this time, Mr. Molina told him to ask me but, he didn't because I'd already handed him the sheet of paper and received a look that said "eavesdropper". I know I was sitting right there, the conversation loud and clear, but I don't like to be labeled. But I bet he doesn't even notice. Strange how guys can shrug anything off- like the time I accidentally kissed this guys shoulder while giving him a goodbye hug back in Phoenix. I walked home bright red and told my mother about it just to share the embarrassment. And he didn't even notice it when I'd asked him the next day- and girls can keep on thinking about it. Never letting it slip.

When Edward doesn't ask right away, I start reading the questions and writing down answers. Five minutes passes and already I'm on the tenth question out of fifteen. Mr. Molina's pop quizzes are always easy. They're questions like "name one part of the female reproductive system". I have a feeling Edward's staring at me as if he's waiting for me to tuck my hair behind my ear, turn around and give him my pencil.

When I'm done the quiz about another five minutes later I walk up to Mr. Molina and hand him my paper. When I turn back Edward's staring at my part of the table. I follow his gaze to the yellow writing tool positioned in between our chairs. His stare is so intense as if he's working magic to bring the pencil to him without having to pick it up. If I don't know any better I would've laughed. The scene just looks strangely humorous.

I walk back to my seat with a small, goofy smile. I sit nice and tall with my hands folded innocently in front of me and stare straight at the whiteboard. Mr. Molina's legs lay on top of his desk, reading the newspaper and the other students are already handing in their papers while Edward remains sitting there staring at his blank one.

I allow myself one glance- just to see if he's still staring at my pencil- and he is. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just sits there staring at it as if is a villain. So I shake my head slightly then clear my throat. He doesn't look up.

"Um," I can feel my cheeks warming up. I look back down re-making the curtain. "Do you need something?"

"Would you happen to have a pencil you could lend me for a few minutes?" he says all gentleman like. I couldn't help but smile. _Would you happen to have a pencil? _He knows I have one. I caught him staring at it at least three times already.

"Nope." I purposely pop the "p" just to see Edward's reaction and of course he's irritated.

"You have one right there." He points to it and I decide to fool around.

"Where?" I pretend like I don't see it and Edward's making all these sighing noises it's kind of funny. I look at the clock and there are only a few more minutes until class is over and Edward's paper is still blank. Well it's his fault he's not prepared for class.

Instead of saying anything he just grabs my pencil and I thought for a second he was going to stab it into my eye. I don't know what Edward Cullen is capable of but I know by his slightly bad attitude he can hurt a fly.

Every time he stops to read a question he'd roll the pencil back and forth between his hands that rests on either side of the paper. He'd roll it so that the pencil would roll across the paper and back. It isn't the noise that bugs me or the fact that he'd do it every two seconds but, the fact that he can't talk to me or ask me for one simple thing like a pencil.

Is it so hard to talk to me? I wonder if it's only him who finds it difficult. I mean, I can tolerate my language if people don't like it- especially with Charlie because he doesn't exactly know his daughter likes to have a foul mouth sometimes- and I think I'm not scary looking and all so what's so difficult?

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**So did you like it?  
Do you want me to keep going? Because I seriously want to.  
Send me a review even if it's like one word... or letter. Something just to let me know people out there care for this story :)  
You guys are freaking awesome. :D**


	2. Changes

**SHOUTOUT OF THE DAY GOES TO ****for being this stories very first reviewer :D CONGRATS.  
Special thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved/alerted me and this story. You guys are freaking awesome.  
And thank you to : **--fan-- **for giving me wonderful advice -- you rock ! and to **_breeze.x _**for looking over my chaps :)**

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**CHAPTER TWO: CHANGES**

I've just gotten out of the punch buggy when the short girl I've seen earlier skips out the front door next to my house with a sweet looking smile. I've notice she's changed from her leggings and long tank top- whatever you call it- duo to a classy dress and heels outfit. I watch as she makes her way down the empty driveway with the same familiar click-click noise as her heel meets with the pavement only hers sounds less struggling than Jess'. We all know Jess isn't very professional when it comes to heels but that doesn't stop her from wearing them. Talk about wanna be Barbie.

"Who is she?" Angela follows my gaze to where the girl is now walking the opposite way down the sidewalk. She's muttering words like, "stupid" and "I can't see why he can't drive me" followed by a harrumph sound. Then when I'd least expect it and when she's about five meters away, she turns around and looks back at me.

I shrug, looking away because if I don't I would think she's obsessed with me or something. It's kind of really freaky. "Girlfriend I guess."

"Really?" Angela says, stretching out the word like it has more than two syllables. She too is continuing to stare at the classy dressed Barbie. It's odd seeing someone dressed so formally in a rainy town like Forks. Unless of course it's for a special occasion like prom or a dance being held at the school or somewhere in the community but that's very rare. Plus this girl seems to dress this way prom or not. She must've been a California Barbie girl. Not even Jess dresses that way and she's the girliest girl I've ever met. As of now.

"Edward Cullen having a girlfriend is like our Bella finally talking to a boy." Jess says with a laugh, re-applying her "quick store run-in lipstick". Angela elbows Jess. "Hey! Watch it!" she says angrily wiping the smeared lipstick with a tissue.

"Ha-ha funny Jess." I just roll my eyes at her and just like Mr. Molina's habit of raising his eyebrows at Edward like every day, rolling my eyes at Jess is my habit. Jess is all about being sarcastic and making jokes- which aren't funny 95 percent of the time. She doesn't care if she's hurt someone's feelings but she does apologize after. Sometimes. After a few jokes or so people learn to take it in and know she's joking around.

"So I assume Mike doesn't count as a boy?" I add in my own tease because well, I'm tired of being the center of Jess and Angela's elementary school bullying.

Angela coughs back a laugh. "Oh you know what I mean," she twists the lipstick back in and carefully- and neatly- slips it back into its place inside her make-up bag and throws it in the back seat. Then she says, "So are you coming with us to Port to shop for prom dresses?" I make a face and she knows exactly what this expression means. "Don't tell me you're not coming."

"Dancing, dresses, heels, make-up, hairstyling and especially proms are not my thing and you know that." Need I say she's been with me for the past three years forcing me to go to any parties or dances the school held and I always refuse to go to any of them. You would think she's tired of giving me lectures about how I'd miss out on all the fun things in life that she's stopped the second time around. That didn't happen. She just kept going. Blah, blah, blah.

"But this is big. It's the first prom either of us is going to and I want all of us to be there to share it together." Angela makes that face. The one where she adjusts her glasses with the tip of her finger, have a small pout on her lips and look at me with those innocent brown eyes. Jess follows along with the same idea but, different expression. I wasn't falling for it. Never have, never will.

"I don't know…" I look back at them with the same pout. "I'll think about it." I was lying but it's the only way to get the two of them to shut up and accept the fact that heels are designed to make it harder for girls to escape when they're being molested by raging hormonal teenage boys or creepy adults pedophiles.

Their pouts turn into smiles. "Yes!" Jess cheers, clapping her hands together. She'salways so preppy she may as well join the cheerleading team but she thinks nothing of it. She's all about going down the prostitute path. And that's not a joke. Well, kind of. "That's definitely a yes. See you tomorrow Bella!" she waves off, buckling her seatbelt. _That's what you think._

"You won't regret it Bella." Angela says with a grin as wide as the sea while the girly ass car backs out of my driveway and back onto the narrow streets of Forks. I watch as the punch buggy disappears seeing only the trees of the forest where they disappear behind.

"I didn't even say yes." I blink with a shake of the head. I turn around and head inside my house taking one glimpse of the Cullen's residence beside me.

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"So Bella," its Charlie's 'let's talk' voice. One scratch on the head and then a brush of a thumb against his mustache means it wasn't at all serious. Two scratches and a crinkle of the nose means the subject is a little touchy and a clearing of the throat, both elbows on top of the table with his hands folded underneath his chin means I should panic. Well actually when he hesitates to say something, opening his mouth then closing it, shifting in his seat and then scratching his head should be the warning sign before I panic because then that means he's going in for the "sex talk".

"So… dad." I tap my fingers in an odd rhythm after taking a bite of the steak I cooked for dinner. God only knows what Charlie'd do to the house if he's in charge of the kitchen. I twist my fork around my plate mashing the potatoes. When I look up Charlie scratches his head once followed by a brush against his mustache. I'm safe.

"What's the matter?" I smirk at him when I see the puddles of sweat are forming on his forehead. "Cat got your tongue?"

Charlie grabs the pepper shaker and dumps some on his potatoes, then takes a drink of his beer and I don't look at him again. He's silent as if he doesn't need to say anything at all. This is why it's awkward to have conversations with Charlie. He'll shut up for about five minutes making the wait unbearable. Sometimes I just want to tell him to just let it out, stop being an overdramatic douche and get over it.

"I uh," he plays around with his mustache again. I try to wait as patiently as I can and I learn patience is needed when you're around Charlie. He goes awfully slowly.

"How do you feel about Maria moving in?" _I don't really care. _It's strange thinking about Charlie and Maria, together, in a relationship. Maria is Charlie's co-worker at the station and they have been good friends for some time until one of them finally made a move. I don't know who did it and I didn't want to ask. It's odd enough thinking Charlie's into relationships after his first one. 'Cause he's just so…old.

"When did you two discuss this?" I ask through a piece of meat in my mouth. Charlie never cares that it's "unwomanly" of me to do so as Renee used to tell me. I feel myself shudder at the thought of her name. It didn't bug me thinking about her yesterday when I'd gone through my closet wishing I'd let her buy me decent clothing for school when I had the chance to. Somehow with Maria moving in, it's making me feel more out of place, with the past fighting its way back to my mind after months of visits to my guidance consoler finally letting go of the incident. I rub my left hand on my right shoulder completely forgetting what lies beneath the layer of clothing I have on.

"Well you know Maria," he's smiling and I look down at my plate because Charlie is being all mushy-gushy over her again. It gives me the chills. Not that I'm not happy for him, I am. It's just… my dad has a girlfriend. "Always wanting what she thinks is best."

"Well I don't mind." I say with a shrug. It's not that I don't care I just don't exactly know how to feel. Maria is nice and all but having another female in the house is going to be different. And I never really trust mother-like adults since _that _night. Exactly three years ago.

"You sure?" he doesn't sound like he buys it but he ignores it anyway. "Well dinner was great Bells. I'm heading out for a bit. Are you okay here?"

I nod. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs. "No sneaking out." He warns me, pointing a finger at me. He and I know that's a big joke.

"Yeah because that's my thing, right?" I roll my eyes picking up the plates and tossing them in the sink. Charlie grabs his coat and throws on his shoes waving goodbye as he closes the door. I turn on the water and rinse the plates having my clumsiness kick in and dropping one sending it into pieces as it lands in the sink.

I stare through the open window after I pick up the broken pieces and think about the conversation Charlie and I've just had. Maria moving in. They've only been together for three months now and already she wants to move in? This house is only big enough for two people. Now there are going to be four. Where would her son sleep anyway?

The plate I'm holding slips out of my hands once again, this time landing on the floor beneath my feet. Glass falls everywhere from big pieces to small ones leaving cuts on my feet. I look down to see the blood already poking out all bright and sickening to look at. I bend down to wipe it all off but, the blood just keeps flowing and right next to my foot, with just my luck, is a piece in the shape of a blade.

I turn off the water and bolt up the stairs to my bedroom and shut my door close. Then I plop onto my bed and I pull out a picture of Renee from the box I've longed to burn a while ago that's buried underneath my bed because I don't have balls to do it.

Even though _she _attempted to take away someone important to her, I can't do the same thing. Renee is my mother and I'm not ready to let go of that fact.

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	3. When You Wish Upon A Star

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"So they're like, super official now?" I grab an apple from the basket and load it onto the blue cafeteria tray sliding it down as I check for decent food they've made. Today's special is grilled cheese with tomatoes and chicken noodle soup. I decide today is the day I'm hungry and just accept the fact that cafeteria food is cafeteria food and it won't kill me to eat it. Jess grabs a prepared egg salad sandwich while Angela went for a poutine.

"I guess," I say pulling out a ten from my back pocket and I hand it to the lunch lady with Angela behind me. Jess is already waiting ahead. "But can we not talk about this?"

"That's funny how Charlie was able to score a date before you and he's like what? 50?" Jess giggles as we walk to our regular table in the far back. I want to flip her the bird but we all know it's unlike me to do so.

Mike and Eric are already here and Jess is probably already hyperventilating. We take a seat and are greeted with another obnoxious burp coming from Mike.

"Ew." Jess makes a face but we all know she likes it. I wonder what she sees in him though.

"He's not that old," I scoff.. "And besides I'm not interested in a relationship. Mind your own bizz."

"So I guess it's a no to tonight's movie?" Mike says with a load of food in his mouth. Looking straight at me. I almost have a panic attack when I see Jess' wide eyes. "I was kidding." Mike says looking at each of us noticing the awkward silence. Eric just whistles, shoving a licorice stick in his mouth.

"That's a great idea," Jess grins. "We should see a movie tonight."

"Can't," Mike chews rather loudly. "I have work tonight." The lucky bastard can get a job and I can't. Life is unfair.

"Oh well how about you guys?" I can tell the question's only directed to Mike but, when she takes in his reply she makes it as if it's an invitation for us as well.

I shake my head. "I need to go grocery shopping." I tell her and it's no lie.

This morning Charlie mentioned he wants me to make a trip to Port Angeles to pick up some stuff. Apparently Maria and her son- Jasper is his name, I think- are coming over for dinner. I don't exactly have a problem with going shopping because what else am I going to do? However, this whole dinner phase isn't like Charlie at all. He was always sitting at home watching baseball games and leaving pizza crust on his armchair or the table. Now he's hardly ever ordering pizza and watching sports. He's always either with Maria or hanging out at Maria's place and we all know what "hanging out" means. It's an odd step. A very big one too.

Jess looks at Angela. "I'm going with her." She says with a soft smile then looks at me. I nod my head back.

"Eric?" Jess is looking desperate as if she doesn't want Mike to see her plan going down the drain. Which did when Mike said he can't go.

"Going to the gram's house." He replies. Jess sinks back in her chair; arms crossed and blows a piece of hair away from her eyes. Melodramatic beotch.

"Alright. Let me know when you guys aren't busy." She gets up from her seat and dumps her tray on top of the pile by the doors.

Angela, Eric and I look at Mike with annoyed expressions as he sat there enjoying his grilled cheese while Jess is off somewhere balling her eyes out, probably.

"What?" he's a big clueless idiot with his mouth still full.

We just shake our heads. If only he knows how Jess is feeling right now. And most likely, he never will.

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"So what are you planning on making for dinner tonight?" Angela pushes the shopping cart which seems to be making a lot of noise and I bend over to pick up a can of spaghetti sauce. I hold it eye-level deciding whether or not we'll be having pasta tonight.

"I really don't know." I sigh when Angela grabs the can from my hand and puts it back on the shelf. "What?" I ask her as she strolls me along with the cart.

"Pasta is too formal," she explains in a 'know-it-all' way. I don't mean to be grumpy but it's just food and it's not like I'm making it to win a nobelle prize. Now we're in the international aisle and Angela has this thoughtful smile. "However, Chinese is exotic."

"So I should make stir-fry?" I don't see anything exotic about stir-fry or chow Mein or even spring rolls. I mean, it's too common in America.

Angela shakes her head and I bend my head back and groan because neither of us can make up our minds.

"Never mind. Let's go to the frozen food aisle." That's what she said four aisles ago. I take the cart this time with nothing in it. We've been here for almost an hour and still nothing popped into our minds.

What are you suppose to make for your dad's other half and her son? Wasn't Charlie supposed to be doing this entire thing? Grocery shopping and cooking? If I hadn't known any better I would have told Charlie to buy a cook book and do it himself. Or even hire a cook. Or do the most classy thing and order in from a restaurant and act like you made it. It could work.

In the end, about an hour later, I decide on making a traditional Southwestern dish: Pot roast along with Pillsbury dinner rolls. I thought of this brilliant idea when I picked up a cook book and flipped through it and remember Charlie mentioning Maria was born and raised in Texas so I thought I could make something from her country. Angela just laughed and mentioned how much of a "softie" I am.

The ingredients for pot roast requires a whole lot of vegetables. Carrots, onions, green peppers, and cabbage. Including potatoes. Along with all-purpose flour (for coating) and Lawry's seasoned salt. And don't forget the lean chuck roast (shoulder cut preferred, 3-4 pounds). Though it doesn't take much to find. Angela and I are back to our cars within the couple of minutes we've memorized the recipe because there's no way I'm going to buy a thirty dollar cook book for one single recipe. That's why there's Google.

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"Dinner was great Bells. Thanks." Charlie sits back on his seat satisfied while he smiles across our original two-seater table and meets Maria's glance. Maria smiles making a comment that I'm sure she repeated three times in the past twenty minutes.

"It was very lovely of you to make us one of Texas' favourites." She has on this smile but I can tell it's not real. As in, she's not that genuine about my cooking skills.

"No problem." I smile awkwardly. This whole night is not happening. First Charlie comes home asking which looked better, his black dress shirt or his charcoal dress shirt. As if it makes a difference. Then he asks for help to tie up his tie. Like I would know. And worse, he offered Maria his armchair- no one is allowed to sit in that chair not even me- when she came in and he let Jasper surf through the channels meanwhile baseball-his favourite sport in the universe- is on. He even pulled out Maria's chair and poured her a drink. It's bizarre. Charlie is a whole different person.

He said excuse me after a very loud, disturbing burp and literally talked about school with Jasper. Turns out Jasper is in my grade, same age, and now attending my school. He'd gone to school in Port Angeles but since he and his mother were moving in, it was time for him to get used to some changes. I know I'm not anytime soon. I still think this is a nightmare.

Jasper doesn't have much of an accent like his mom. Maria's isn't heavy but, you can tell she's Southwestern. However, with Jasper born and raised here, he'd adapted to the American accent only having a very slight southwestern one. He's into boxing and the whole army idea but, Maria convinced him to quit boxing- she doesn't like to see him come home with a black eye after practice- and what else, his blond curly hair is not from Maria or his father it is unknown- maybe Maria lied to his dad saying it's his when it's someone else's. It's pretty obvious. His favourite sport is baseball just like Charlie and is going to be living in our basement.

Oh and there's something weird about him. Like dark weird. I don't know but I don't want to ask.

"You know Bella," Maria sets a pile of dishes beside the sink where I'm washing the glasses and silverware. "I appreciate what you're doing for Jasper and I." I look up at her once to see that she has some goofy smile plastered onto her face. Which I must say does not consist of make-up.

"Again, it's no problem." I try to smile back, concentrating on not letting any of the glasses slip from my hand. She makes me all nervous.

"I know it must be hard being around me-" she continues when I thought she left. It's just silence between us. Like Charlie, she takes pauses every now and then before talking. That's one thing I noticed they have in common. Except for having a child with the same age. Oh and they love each other. I guess if you put it that way. I mean, she _is_ moving in.

"I don't mind." I tell her when I notice she's not ready to shut up. But the truth is, with a son who loves to fight, who knows where he picks that up? Maria is a cop and I know her mouth just keeps yapping and yapping so clearly she likes to do justice.

"-since what happened with your mother. She was a sweet girl, I'll tell you that," she's smiling again, I can tell in her voice. I know that about my mother and it annoys me when she emphasized 'was'. "I promise everything will be alright."

I rinse the last cup and leave the plates for another time. I turn off the tap and wipe my hands with the towel beside me. Clearly the conversation is over. Apparently she doesn't get it though. There are no other words to describe how annoyed I am with her right now. Who does she think she is to come up and talk about my mother to me like I don't know anything about her and she does?

"You're alright now aren't you?" she asks me. I just looked down at my feet and walk out of the kitchen, straight up to my room not even bothering to listen to Charlie when he called after me.

Maria Hale may be living here but, she is absolutely in no way a part of my life if she thinks she can make everything all better again. Renee may be gone but, no one can ever replace my mother.

I shut the door and lay onto my bed pulling out the CD player from underneath my bed that's tucked with the rest of my memorabilia. I check to see if the CD is still in and when it is I close the player and put the headphones on, pressing play.

It's her voice, the same sweet voice I remember, that first appears on the CD. I listen closely, turning up the volume, like it's the first time I'm hearing it but, truth be told, I fall asleep to this almost every night.

"_A daughter is the happy memories of the past, the joyful moments of the present, and the hope and promise of the future"_ she speaks softly and I can tell there's a smile in her voice as she records it. She sounds so happy, so joyous, like nothing in her life is ever wrong. Those are the days I miss when it grew out. There's a short pause after the quotation and then the familiar melody played by my grandfather begins. I snuggle closer to the pillow, burying my face into it while I wait patiently for the words to begin.

"_When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are" _her voice is soft as the chords play in the background going into a crescendo. She takes soft breaths between lines. I've forgotten how beautiful her voice is.

"_Anything your heart desires will come to you"_

Renee had recorded this song when I was only two years old. She was the type of girl who spent her time at venues listening to other bands while performing herself. She'd become known for weddings and fancy things like that. She didn't write her own lyrics. She never thought she was good enough so she did covers of the world's greatest hits back then. She'd dedicated this song to me when I was born- that's what she'd said- and sang it to me when I'd wake up in the middle of the night and cried.

"It always calmed you down." She'd told me when she recited the story. The same one she told me every night before I went to bed up until I was seven and things had gotten out of hand.

I found the CD in the basement a while ago when I'd first moved here and did some cleaning to take my mind off of things and get myself settled in. It was buried in a cardboard box behind Charlie's old fishing materials. If he hadn't sent me down to go get them I would have never come across it.

Something about this CD makes my life brighter than it is before I found it. Maybe it's the fact that she sounds content or the fact that she always talks about me before she starts to sing a song. Or maybe that it's the only memory I have of her now despite our differences. Besides the pictures, of course. I snagged it before Charlie had a chance to burn it.

I close my eyes and let the soft melody of _"When You Wish Upon a Star" _calm me down from the nerves I've picked up earlier. Not that it's Maria's fault. She's just trying to help.

By the time I'd make it to the fifth song, there's a large booming noise from next door. I get up from my bed- shocked- and run to my bathroom window which allows me to open it far enough so I can climb out and see the houses on either side of me.

There in the open garage door is the well-built boy sitting on a stool behind drums whacking it on top of the drum set as if he's a professional. Of course, I think of the obvious. _Band practice_.

It happens almost every Friday night's when people like me want to relax and the second you think everything is finally relaxing, the music comes on and interrupts you.

"So what do you think?" the muscular boy calls out, still banging on the drums. His girlfriend waves her hand around before going back in. Clearly she's too tired of the noise. The pixie girl follows behind while Edward comes out, tuning his guitar.

"It's noise." He replies, strumming each string at a time then one by one.

"Noise?" the drummer sounds offended. "This is not noise," he stresses out 'not' as if Edward doesn't get what he's saying. "Noise is what you're making right now! It doesn't even sound right."

"Emmett I'm tuning the guitar! That's how it sounds like when you muddle around with it and leave me to fix it all over again!" he says back, and somehow it's like he's talking to a six year old. "Grow the hell up already."

"I didn't muddle-whatever that means-around with it," Emmett says in a way that sells him out. "Rose! What did I tell you about touching Edward's guitar?" he then yells out shaking his head. I swear he can start an earthquake with the sound of his voice.

"Emmett you idiot! I did not touch it!" she then calls back, slamming the door after opening it to poke her head through. I decide eavesdropping is not the smartest idea so I close my window, running to my bed again.

Apparently Emmett is the idiot of the group. He may look tough but, he was a "softie" like Angela and Jess would call it.

They're still fighting outside but, all I can hear are mumbles through the headphones. Charlie has knocked on my door a few times but, I refuse to talk to anyone tonight.

All I want was to get some sleep and it doesn't help when Angela calls and I have to take the call because she's babysitting her two year old neighbor who "wouldn't shut up and calm down already" and she begs for my help.

So I get into my truck and make my way down past the school towards Angela's leaving Charlie confused, Maria upset and Jasper who pays no attention to whatever's going on because he's so into the boxing match on TV.

This better be a nightmare.

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**I aplogize if there are any grammatical errors or tense errors.  
Review for the next chapter, keep 'em coming! :D**

**What's your favourite song and why?** I'm interested in what types of music you guys listen to.  
Right now, my favourite song would have to be "What I Really Wanna Say" by Varsity Fanclub... they are AMAZING  
and the lyrics are just as amazing as they are :) The lyrics just speak for themselves and I think it's the perfect  
kind of way to decode frustrating guy codes when you just want to crawl in a hole whenever a guy says or does  
something that you don't understand.

**Anyway, updates for this story may or may not be frequent do to my newest project "Catch Me"  
that's co-authored with "breeze.x" - she's amazing xD ... and i really need to find a new word haha.  
Suggestions ? :) Like, eggtastic lolol.**

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